My Last Days
by StrippedToTheSoul
Summary: AU! Augustus Waters survived, having to give up his leg that was left, but still alive. He kicked cancer's butt, again. It is Hazel who relapses. Based upon a Tumblr post (sort of).


My Last Days

It was a cool day outside, the temperature not quite cold enough to let it snow, but almost. If it cooled down a little bit more, instead of rain, snow would be falling from the clouds. Both Augustus and Hazel Grace had been awake for hours; though neither of them knew that the other one was awake too.

Hazel hadn't woken up to her nice and soft bed, or the scent of her room, the way that she had wanted to wake up, no, the sharp scent of antiseptics stung in her nose, _again_. She had been in the hospital for days now as her lungs filled up with more and more water and it was getting harder and harder for her to breathe, even though they had attached her to a machine to help her breath and were pumping fluid from her lungs.

This was like before all over again. Her great escape, her Phalanxifor had finally showed her just how wrong things could go if they kept adding to the dose to help her breathe. Over a duration of two weeks, it had completely stopped working. The medicine had given up working and started the countdown.

Another four to six weeks. That was what they thought she would have if she was lucky. _Define lucky. _Over the past week that she had been in the hospital, she had slipped further and further away from the earth, the only thing that held her here unable to visit her.

Unable because she didn't want him to. She didn't want him to see her the way she was now, under the influence of the dosage of chemo that they had tried now over a month ago, but only had made her feel worse. All of her hair had fallen out leaving her almost bald, her skin had become translucent almost and her weight had taken a huge plummet down.

She was barely aware now, who was there and who wasn't. She was too tired, too exhausted from getting her cancer to kick ass, that she didn't even care anymore really. As long as _he _didn't see her, as long as Augustus didn't have to remember her the way that she was now, she was even okay with it, with dying.

Why bother dragging her life any more? Even if they found a new Phalanxifor, even if they found a new treatment that would possibly help her, why would they only push of the inevitable? Life, it was such a frail thing, that she knew and if she had to die than she had to die.

Augustus still hadn't gotten a hang of wheeling himself around in the wheelchair, even though it had been a year since he had lost his other leg too, a year since he had kicked cancer's butt. He had been so close to dying when the miracle occurred, when the doctors had taken a new scan to see how the cancer was progressing and found surprising results.

He could still remember the words clearly when they told him that they could see less cancer cells roaming free in his body. Six rounds of chemo later, he was both cancer and knee free. He had gotten the chance to see the miracle happen, see his muscles come back, see his joy come back into his life.

He had been able to spend at least seven good months with Hazel Grace, he had been able to do the things that they both had never thought they could ever do again, eat Dutch sandwiches, turn down the volume of the television and come up with new conversations for the characters. They spend a little over half a year without either of them lying in a hospital bed because their cancer had brought them to their, for her real and Augustus inexistent knees.

Then it happened. She relapsed after months of being good and happy with her medicine. She hit rock bottom. They still spend time after her relapse, but it had changed. While Augustus had always been the one that had to be taken into account, the chemo sessions that Hazel Grace had to undergo were now the problem. The fluid in her lungs was now the reason that her oxygen tank was no longer sufficient to supply enough oxygen for her to take a walk outside.

While he had been confined to a hospital bed in the living room of his house, it was now Hazel Grace that barely had enough strength to go up the stairs to her room, the one that had become almost impossible to get to for the both of them actually.

Their good days consisted of the two of them sitting in the garden, Hazel Grace on his lap in his wheelchair as they watched the stars in the night sky, shooting by. When he was home though, he often spend the day thinking that he would have given anything in his life not to see Hazel Grace die of cancer too.

Neither of them had seen each other in such a long time, neither of them had even talked to each other in days, because Hazel Grace was going downhill rapidly. He had called her mother a few times, but she had stressed the fact that Hazel Grace didn't want him to visit her in the hospital, that she was sorry, but that she didn't want that to.

It was on that cold day that Hazel slipped away into a deep sleep that was almost like a coma, or at least, that was what the doctors said. Her lungs were completely filled with fluid, her breaths had been struggled ones and then, she had closed her eyes and slipped off into her own realm of darkness in which the doctors were sure that she would stay until her body was ready to pass on.

Augustus received that news during dinner. Normally, he wasn't allowed to take any phone calls during dinnertime, but his parents seemed to have loosened up on that rule since he had been through his challenge and after that, Hazel had gotten sicker.

"It his Hazel Grace's mom," he said, putting down his fork on his plate with a loud clatter.

"Take it," his father said, after having exchanged a meaningful glance at his mother, clearly sure that they knew which news that he would be hearing.

He was surprised by how calm he still felt when he heard her mother say that she had drifted off into a deep sleep and that her heart was starting to fail, that her oxygen levels were going down that deep that he if he would want to see her again, that he shouldn't wait too long.

"Augustus," he heard her mother say, "we know that Hazel had a lot of support from you and that you haven't seen her in a long time. I hope you understand that we want to spend as much time with her as we can. Though, if you want, you can come and see her now. I think that is what she would have wanted."

His mother was driving not an hour later. She had been very hesitant at first, because she more than understood how her family must feel now, but understood her son's feelings too. She had to rush to be able to hit the visiting hours, and it would be a close call, but he would get to see her.

Augustus sprinted down the hallways in the hospital after the too slow elevator had taken him to the third floor, took the familiar path to the oncology ward and into the intensive care rooms, where her mother was already waiting for him to arrive after he had texted that he had arrived. His mother had stayed behind him, taking a cup of coffee from the machine in the hallway, knowing that her son would need some time with Hazel alone.

"They put her on extra machines," her mother warned her before he could enter the room, "to monitor how she was doing more. Her heart rate is slowing down more and more each hour. I know how you think she will look and Augustus, she looks a lot different now."

"I know," he said, eager to get inside of the room, but dreading it at the same time. He wanted to see her, but didn't want to see her die.

The room was white, sterile, a place that nobody wanted to see anyone in. in a hospital bed in the corner of the room, surrounded by all kinds of machines and wires, lay his love, his Hazel. Her mother hadn't been lying, she did look awful. She looked everything but the radiant Hazel Grace that he had met now ages ago. She looked hollow, tired, as if she had just run a marathon. As if she was running from a monster, and failing.

He didn't expect the tears to sting in his eyes as he rolled next to her bed and took her frail hand in his. He looked as if he had been in the sun for hours compared to her white complexion. Augustus could feel every bone in her fingers, in her palm as he cupped hers in his.

"Hazel," he whispered under his breath, "I never thought that I would be writing an eulogy for you. I always thought that I would be the one to die while you were alive and thriving, my friend. Faith seems to be deciding against that. It is okay, if you want to give in, it is okay."

"You used… you used to call me Hazel Grace, not just Hazel." She hadn't opened her eyes, but was using all of her force to speak at least a few words.

"Hazel Grace," he breathed, surprised. He could feel her hand go limp again in his, saw how her heart rate shot up, her oxygen levels went down and eventually, all that filled the room was the low hum of the monitor that registered everything. Her heart rate kept dropping and dropping, until the machines started beeping.

"Augustus," her mother said behind her, with tears in her eyes, "do you think that you could leave us alone? We'd like to say goodbye."

"Of course," he said, voice restrained and rolled out of the room, listening to the noises and the voices, the beeping of the machine and eventually, the inevitable crying of Mrs. Lancaster, after which the machines were turned off.

"Time of death, 7:21 PM."

At 7:21 PM that evening, it started snowing outside, an infinity of snowflakes in thousands of different shapes and sizes. At 7:21PM, Augustus Waters's heart was broken in a thousand little pieces, each ready to be shattered into more sections. At 7:25PM, the elevator doors opened up to the lobby, allowing Augustus to slip outside, into the snow. The wheels of his wheelchair were not even remotely ready to be rolled through the snow, his muscles not yet ready for it.

Memories flashed before his eyes as he took the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, took one out and put it between his lips. The lighter wouldn't turn on, the flame wouldn't catch. After what seemed like a thousand tries, the flames licked the paper of the cigarette, setting it on fire.

"Goodbye Hazel Grace," he whispered under his breath as he took a deep drag from it, feeling the burning that Hazel Grace must have felt in his lungs, "I hope you don't mind that I light one now."


End file.
